Last night there was smoke and there was fire and there was my husband and I, alone in a locked room on a mattress on the floor with two candles lit like the two teenagers we were when we met, except our children ate dinner in front of the television in the next room. ' Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturdaaaaay ' and the winds blew and the moon closed her eye and the leaves skittered nervously in the California wind and all the noise and chaos and uncertainty and fear was drawn into the force of our atmosphere and thrown out into the Universe. It will take a while to come hunching back.
Sugar, ah honey honey.
Once I came home and the house was quiet. Where were the children? The bedroom door was closed. Where was my husband? I put down my purse, flung the keys, opened the bedroom door
The room was filled with a magic balloon parade, all floating and bobbing and entirely filling the room with their cheerful, sparkling faces, and each with my husband's distinctive writing across.
Beautiful one read.
Passionate another said.
My love, Classic, Feminine, Creative, Loyal,
and each colorful cloud parted for my husband's sweetest face and eyes, watching me.
I gave him something to watch.